


"I'm Sad Tonight. Let's Have Dinner" - Missing Scenes From A Scandal In Belgravia

by akajustmerry



Series: Missing Scenes From A Scandal In Belgravia [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Episode: s02e01 A Scandal in Belgravia, Multi, POV Irene, POV Irene Adler, POV Sherlock Holmes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-03-09 08:45:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3243482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akajustmerry/pseuds/akajustmerry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"...please write a scene for when Irene texted Sherlock, "I'm sad tonight, let's have dinner." it's just intriguing that she would reach out to him like that..."</p><p>originally published on my tumblr: letzplaymurder.tumblr.com</p><p>(i had to re upload this here again cos i accidentally deleted it before)</p>
            </blockquote>





	"I'm Sad Tonight. Let's Have Dinner" - Missing Scenes From A Scandal In Belgravia

“Miss Adler? We have a visitor.” Irene Adler saw that her maid’s face seemed slightly apprehensive, reflected in the gilded mirror of her dresser.

“Are you going to tell me who it is?” she asked, slightly impatient as she continued to delicately apply mascara to her lashes.

“Oops! My  _deepest_  apologies, ladies,” Irene heard his high pitched Irish drawl before she saw his distorted reflection appear beside Kate’s in the doorway, “Hope you don’t mind,” he giggled, “I let myself in.” A smile curled Irene’s lips as she lidded the mascara, swung her chair around and lazily drew her silk robe over her lingerie before walking over to greet him,

“Not at all.” She nodded at Kate to take her leave, “It’s a pleasure to finally make your physical acquaintance,” She offered him her hand, “Mr. Moriarty.”

“Please,” he took her hand and brought it to his lips, “Call me Jim.”

“Miss Adler?” Kate had returned, “I’ve prepared tea for you and your guest in the drawing room.”

“Thank you, Kate. That will be all.” Irene responded. “Shall we?” she prompted to Jim.

In the drawing room, Jim poured them both tea before idly assuming a seat in one of Irene’s arm chairs. Irene assumed the seat opposite, crossing her legs before absently stirring her tea. Jim tapped the arm of the chair with his fingertips, his restlessness so similar to Mr. Holmes’,

“So, how’s the Virgin doing?” he asked with what seemed polite interest as he placed his tea in his lap. Irene pulled her cup away from her lips and sighed,

“Unresponsive.” She was suddenly aware of the phones’ weight in the pocket of her dressing gown. Jim chuckled,

“Just  _adorable_  the way he tries to ignore it, isn’t it? The way he suppresses his desires.” Irene sniggered,

“Suppose, you’re wrong? Suppose he doesn’t have them? I’d rather not waste my time.” She inquired casually as she sipped her tea. Irene watched his eyes slide over her before a cunning smile quirked his lips,

“My dear Miss Adler, how could he not?” his voice was playful though there was an edge of, something like, anticipation to his drawl, “He’ll see soon enough. You both will.” Irene’s heart gave an odd flutter at Jim’s last comment but she resisted the urge to frown as she took another sip of her tea,

“And you’re sure there’s nothing you want from me in return for this,” she paused, it was her turn to look him up and down, “most elaborate consultation?”

“Save your,” he smirked before letting the word roll off his tongue, “resources, for our mutual friend. I myself am quite content with a front row seat to watch our little game.” He placed his tea in his lap to flourish his fingers, “Besides, I’m not sure I could afford your services, Miss Adler. But then again, from what I hear, you practically gave Sherlock a freebie when he visited.” He teased. Irene chuckled,

“You warned me of his troublesome deductions. I simply didn’t want to give him anything to work with.”

“You certainly didn’t.” They both were chuckling now, after a few moments, Jim spoke again, “He’s so much fun to play with,” he mused.

“Hm, yes. He is, rather.” Irene sipped her tea, again.

“Such a shame. I’ll miss him.” Jim sighed, Irene raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him as he waved his fingers absently and continued, “That I have to burn him.” Irene pulled her cup away from her lips and placed it on the saucer. The clink of the cup much louder than she’d expected.

“Our arrangement notwithstanding, out of” she paused, “Curiosity, why bother with the games? If you want him dead so desperately, why not simply kill him?”  He grinned at her,

“Breaking a heart is just as much fun as burning it, my dear.” She couldn’t help giving him a smug smile before she replied playfully.

“I take it that’s where I come in?”

“And you’re doing exceptionally! Honestly, it’s just sooooo entertaining watching him dance around John’s enquiries about you,” he paused, “Nice touch with the ringtone, how,” he chuckled, “orgasmic!” Irene winked in response, Jim laughed. But there was something practiced and artificial about it before he finished the last of his tea and as she watched him, to Irene’s surprise, a ghost of something similar to anxiety gnawed at her insides. Her fingers wrapped themselves protectively around the phone in her pocket.

“Can I see it?” he asked, suddenly. Irene looked up at him. “Promise I’ll give it back” he cooed, she narrowed her eyes before sliding it across the table to him. He caught it, smoothly twirling it between his fingers before activating the lock screen,

“Passcode locked? I am locked.” he muttered, chuckling, apparently amused, “I’ll never guess” he murmured sarcastically before throwing it lightly back to Irene. Who caught it, placing it swiftly back in her pocket. “It would make a lovely Christmas present.” He mused, standing up and straightening his suit. Irene sighed,

“Yes, so it seems. Though, I must admit I’m not exactly excited at the prospect of ‘dying’ for the sake of Sherlock Holmes. How dull a way to spend Christmas.” Jim Moriarty was grinning, the way people do at inside jokes,

“You’ll learn to love it.” He drawled, Irene raised a sceptical eyebrow in response, the unpleasant gnawing in her stomach growing more pronounced until, “I think I’ll let myself out. It’s been a pleasure, Miss Adler.” He walked over to her chair to kiss her hand again, “I doubt we’ll meet again.”

“How unfortunate.” She said, curling her lips into a smile as he turned to leave.

“Oh, Miss Adler?” he turned his head back to face her. “Do give the Holmes Brothers my love, won’t you?” she chuckled,

“Of course, Jim, my darling!” she chirped before watching him leave the drawing room. A moment later, the sound of the front door closing confirmed his departure. Irene stayed sitting in her armchair, the camera phone already out of her pocket before Kate entered the room and began clearing away the tea.

“Do you really think he’ll kill him? That Sherlock Holmes?” Kate wondered, aloud.

“Oh, I have absolutely no doubt. In one way or another. Though, It doesn’t really matter, I’ll have the Nation in the palm of my hand by then.” Irene stated. Her voice had a flatness to it that she didn’t expect.

“Shame, he was rather handsome.” Kate’s use of the past tense when Mr. Holmes was not yet deceased made Irene’s eye twitch.

“Kate, go prepare my bags, please. I’ll be needing them soon.” Kate nodded and left the room. Irene stood there for a moment, poising the phone in her hand, brushing her fingers over the keys apprehensively before sighing and,

_I’m sad tonight. Let’s have dinner._

***

At 221b Baker Street, Sherlock sighed at the sound of the text alert that seemed to inspire endless amounts of sniggering. He looked away from his microscope and frowned at the text from Irene Adler,

“What does she want now, mate? Evening booty call? Want you to help her test out her knew riding crop? You could bring yours, twice the fun!” he teased, Sherlock ignored him,

“She’s sad,” he said as he stared at the message with his brow furrowed for a long moment. Then, rolling his eyes and pocketing the phone, he returned to his microscopic slides, “Absolutely no idea why that has anything to do with me.”

—————————————————————————————————

**Author's Note:**

> given the ending of the most recent update of my fic "the price of retrouvailles" i wanted to give ya'll a taste of my adler/moriarty dynamic.


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